


And I For One, Can't Wait To Watch

by voiderling



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Liv is a sadistic feral scientist and i love her, Science Torture, not too bad yet dw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 19:23:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18556216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voiderling/pseuds/voiderling
Summary: Look this is how I always want those kind of scenes to go, what did the movie makers EXPECT from me when they gave me that scene as inspiration yall know what I'm talking abt.I might continue this but I might also just take this idea and make it happen to someone else cus I'm shameless





	And I For One, Can't Wait To Watch

“If you stay in this dimension too long, your body’s going to disintegrate. Do you know how painful that would be, Peter Parker?”

 

“Uh... I don’t know?”

 

“You can’t imagine.” she paused, leaning forward towards her captive, a smile tugging at her lip. “And I for one, can’t wait to watch.”

 

\---

 

Peter roused in a cool, dim room. It was like the room he’d been in earlier; filled with laboratory equipment, but this one lacked windows and the open atmosphere. It was quiet but not silent. Different sources of white noise layered over one another. Cool air streamed against his face from somewhere above him. 

 

He went to touch his neck, which was sore, but couldn’t. Metal bands clamped tightly across his wrists, upper arm, chest, thighs, ankles, and either side of his head. In the back of his mind he knew that wasn’t good. He wanted to move but he couldn’t. Bad. He felt disordered, bleary, sick. Where was he again?

 

_ GZZT. _

 

_ A wrenching pain that came from all angles and tore at his skin but didn’t tear it. His vision split and he could see blinding strands connecting the disjointed sections of vision. His sense of balance inverted and twisted, and - _

 

Everything was normal again, like it had never happened.

 

Through the drone of computers and his own mind, he could hear something. A  _ click clack _ that was getting closer.

 

What was that sound? He couldn’t place it. But it kept coming. He hadn’t realised he’d closed his eyes. When he opened them, the sound had stopped and a white figure was in front of him. No… they were wearing white. A coat? It was cold in here, that’s why they needed a coat.

 

“I see you’re awake, Peter.” 

 

Who was Peter again?

 

“You’re feeling a bit groggy, but I promise that will wear off. Nothing to worry about. I just need to adjust something here…”

The voice was quiet and gentle, like a reassuring doctor at a hospital. Dark blue hands came up to his neck, he nodded absently, distracted by the colour. The hands were cool and smooth against his skin. Long, curly brown hair brushed his cheek. It was soft and warm.

 

“So cooperative,” the voice murmured to his ear, contemplative. It sounded pleased. Something was clicked into place, and the hands retreated. “We’ll check back on you once you’re feeling a bit more present.”

 

He nodded again, slowly. Sleep was a good thing, but he winced as something sharp pricked his neck. He blinked slower and slower. The person was smiling… Good, happiness was… a good thing…

 

\----

 

He inhaled sharply, waking with a jolt. The person was in front of him again, this time he recognised her immediately and pushed back against the metal chair he was in. Doctor Olivia Octavius, in a pristine lab coat, looking at him through octagonal glasses and smiling. Her hair was tied back, a few strands hanging down and tucked behind her ears. 

 

He remembered the last time he’d seen her, in her office. They were in a very different place now, physically at least. How long had he been out? He struggled against the metal restraints but they didn’t budge. Was that the strength of the metal, or a lack of strength in himself? His web-shooters didn’t seem to work either.

 

“Ah,  _ now _ you’re awake. You came to a bit early before, but I wanted to get a good baseline while you were resting...” she began trailing off as she noticed something on the side of his head. She walked over and put deft hands to it, leaning in close with a forearm against his chest. He shifted away, to the best of his ability. 

  
“That pump isn’t fitted quite right… must be why you woke with such a jolt, lucky the epinephrine dosage isn’t lethal at that amount, hm. That should fix it.” she muttered softly, more to herself than to him, fiddling with something at his neck. The sensation of something tugging and moving under his skin made him feel nauseous.

 

“What do you want… from me.” he managed to spit out, barely. It was a hoarse and whispery sound with a throat dry as paper.

 

She was still preoccupied with the side of his head, with one gloved hand she drew a finger along the space under his ear and behind his jaw. She withdrew the finger, a droplet of blood on its end, and raised it to look at it under a different angle of light.

 

“Sorry, what was that?” she spoke, still angling the sample. From a pocket on her lab coat she retrieved a swab and a small plastic tube. She brushed the swab along the back of his ear, put it into the tube and snapped its wooden stem neatly so it would fit as she closed the lid.

 

“What do you  _ want _ .”

 

A little smile came to her lips again, that same one he’d seen in the office. At the same time, and seemingly of its own will with nothing to do with her, one of her semi-translucent tentacles snaked out of her back at a languid pace, retrieving the blood sample and placing it a distance behind her on a bench near a microscope. The lab coat must’ve had special openings on the back. It also indicated that she wasn’t worried about her identity being revealed here; either anyone here knew who she was, or she knew she wouldn’t have company. Neither was a good sign.

 

“Why Peter, thank you for considering my wants, but I’m afraid I have everything I need right here.” she said, warmly. 

 

The way she looked at him… Nobody had ever looked at him like that before. When he was in his prime there might’ve been some admiring gazes, but this was different. This was someone looking at him like an experiment, a new species. But something more than that too. That new new species was all theirs, and they could find out exactly how it worked by any means, with absolutely no one around with the good sense to tell them  _ no. _

 

A second tentacle extended behind her, but it was difficult to work out what it was doing. Both seemed to be moving things, arranging them at an easy pace. Whatever mechanism made them pulse was likewise slow. It almost seemed like a heartbeat.

 

“Truth be told Peter, something like you has just never happened. We have  _ theories _ , but no concrete evidence of this kind of dimensional…” she waved her hands in the air for a moment, squinting “trespassing.” her face perked up again. “I hope you’re not camera shy, surely not. Our Peter Parker certainly wasn’t. Oh you might’ve noticed the electrodes too, they’re for monitoring. We want to know  _ exactly _ how this happens. This data might even prevent this kind of reaction from happening again, Peter.” she looked him in the eye, sincere and earnest. “There’s just so much one can learn from a subject like yourself. Willing or... unwilling.” once again she was getting closer, she put a hand on his thigh, like he was furniture more than anything else. “Just remember that what you’re doing is for the greater good.”

 

He made a face at that, a wince. She could twist words all she wanted but he wouldn’t buy it.

 

“What are you going to  _ do _ to me then, what do you mean monitor?”

 

She stepped back, away from him, retrieving a notepad from another pocket and walking over to the microscope where the sample she’d taken had been deposited. She didn’t act like she’d even heard his question. In her place, the two extended tentacles took over.

 

They seemed to be checking the placement of monitoring equipment, but they were disturbingly soft, pressing against him like a relaxed muscle. Honestly he would have preferred if they were metal, it would feel less like something alive. They were warm, and each subtle and rolling pulse made his skin crawl. He shut his eyes, but that only seemed to make it worse. The feeling of a human intelligence working through something so… alien. 

 

Perhaps, while her back was turned, he might have a chance. He was about ninety percent sure she couldn’t  _ see _ through these things. 

 

Willing himself to ignore the crawling touches, he concentrated on his right arm, tensing the muscles and wrenching it upward. All it afforded was pain. The same went for trying to wrench his hand through the cuff. So brute forcing it wouldn’t work. There would need to be a window of opportu-

 

_ GZZT. _

 

_ \- and he could feel every sinew in his frame stretch too long for their confined spaces, their defined pathways, it wouldn’t fit inside his head and he couldn’t make sense of the sensations his body was delivering any more than he felt capable of - _

 

When he snapped back into place, Liv was watching over him again, her additional limbs now shortened and curled up behind her, their ends hovering above her shoulders and managing to look  _ curious _ .

 

“So sporadic and  _ short _ , we could probably alter some things and string that out a little longer, huh. Alter some diffraction values, bump up the….” 

 

She continued on and Peter tuned out. It didn’t mean anything to him. What  _ did _ matter is that it had given him an idea. A wreckless, maybe stupid idea, but it was better than nothing. 

 

He wasn’t quite sure how the glitching worked physically, but during an episode - through all the chaos and conflicting signals - he had felt his wrist go into the metal. He didn’t know how, but it had. If he could just push that little bit further, get his wrist outside the restraint, then maybe...

 

Dr. Octavius left the room at a quick pace, still rattling off technobabble in an excited manner, her tentacles twitching excitedly. Concerning, but he’d just have to wait until either another episode hit or she came back. He didn’t really want either, but at least the former probably wasn’t going to come back with something too horrific.

 

As it happened, Dr. Octavius was the one who returned first. She held a large electronic device with her tentacles. He had no idea what it was, other than that it looked like rings of metal attached to a box, with a lot of wire wrapped around each ring.

 

She placed it down on a table next to him. The ease by which she did it made him think the device was lighter rather than heavier, but it gave a dense thud as it was placed down. From it, she took a long cord in her hands and connected it to something at his back.

 

Satisfied, she stood in front of him, one tentacle on a dial on the coiled-wire device.

 

“Let’s test this out, make sure everything’s in place.” 

 

The tentacle turned the dial slightly, and with it came a very slight course of what felt like electricity. He shifted, uncomfortable, and she turned it up a notch more. She wasn’t even watching him now, walking over to some monitors to read the charts. 

 

“You’re doing great, Peter!” she called from behind a screen, still not looking at him as she turned the dial up again. He groaned, it was starting to wear on him and become painful. He was also increasingly sure it  _ wasn’t _ electricity but something else. 

 

She turned the dial up.

 

“Th-that’s … please stop...” he said, uselessly. It was more a deeply unsettling feeling than a painful one. It felt like his nerves were shifting around under his skin, like his blood was moving irregularly. 

 

“Really great!” she called again, ignoring his sounds of distress.

 

_ GZZZ--- _

 

_ \- felt capable of leaving his brain and the pain held and held and held and held, it wasn’t leaving, he was stuck in here and he’d been stuck like this for too long with his arms too bent and wrong and stuck and he. Focused on the wrist. That’s what he needed, the wrist. He needed it to stay there. To be stuck outside. Not get pulled back. Not get-  _

 

_ ZZT. _

 

“Oh wonderful! We got that one perfectly, these readouts are looking real clear Peter.” she said, still behind the screens. 

 

It took him longer to come back to centre this time, to remember where he was and what situation he was in. It took him longer still to recognise that his left wrist was sitting outside the cuff.

 

He stole a glance over at where Octavius was, still busy with the screens and muttering more science talk to herself. She would notice, if she looked over.

 

He froze as her other two tentacles extended from her back, but relaxed once he realised they were going over to other lab equipment. They had a calm, undulating movement to them, only the very ends twitching every so often. The scene was unnerving; her four tentacles raised and spread around the lab doing the work of at least 2 or 3 other lab staff. 

 

One of them came closer to him, reaching up to prod and poke at the cuff around his neck. For a worrying moment, it brushed up against his freed arm. He had no idea if she could actually feel anything through the arms, but if she could, she didn’t seem to notice the bare wrist. 

 

He took a deep breath and waited for it to leave. What would he actually  _ do _ once it did was something he would find out then.

 

“How do you feel, Peter?” she called out to him.

 

His eyes darted over to her, thankfully she still didn’t look up. He was getting the impression she only wanted to look at him when he was yielding interesting results.

 

“Uh.” he started, caught off-guard. Conversation was a perfect distraction, if he could keep it up. “Never better, yourself?”

 

“Answer properly.” she said, the good cheer she’d had this entire time evaporating from her tone. It made him acutely aware that he was still trapped here.

 

“Kind of... tingly? I think?” he replied, sheepishly.

 

Her sour tone disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared, back to intense curiosity. “Oh? Tell me more about that.”

 

“It’s, kind of in my muscles, closer to the bones than the skin.” he said, moving his left hand to his right as the tentacle finally retreated back. It didn’t stray far but it was the best chance he would get.

 

“Hm, interesting. I wonder if it’s indicative of cellular degeneration, perhaps in the osteoblasts? We can take a biopsy. Probably won’t be as interesting as what we could get from a full autop-…”

 

He stopped following what she was saying. Clearly she wasn’t talking to him. He moved his hand further, feeling around the chair for any hidden releases. It was smooth, cold metal, with no features. That made it exceedingly easy to feel the button on the back of the chair. He readied himself to bolt for the door, and, belatedly, hoped there weren’t multiple  _ different _ buttons with multiple different purposes on the back of the chair.

 

He’d pressed it.

 

To his relief, the restraints opened. He was free. He launched off the chair, taking one large stride forward, leaping into the next. 

 

He was stopped in mid-air. A tentacle wrapping so quickly around his thighs and torso that he’d hardly managed to blink. His reflexes were still so much slower than he was used to.

 

“Really Peter, I thought you would know better.” she said, head only now raising to look at what she’d caught so easily. 

 

One of her tentacles effortlessly held him off the ground. As she walked towards him, she raised herself up off the floor using two tentacles on either side. She stopped when they were eye to eye and  _ very _ close.

 

“So whaddya say, let me go and I’ll buy you an ice cream?” he said, the nerves in his voice obvious.

 

Her eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly. She looked somewhere between loathing and making a choice. He had some idea what kind of choice that would be.

 

“You do realise there are  _ more _ of you,” she said, voice slower and deeper, with a roughness at its edge. She looked at him, a smile tugged at one side of her mouth. He wondered briefly if she knew how unhinged that made her look. Her next words were cold. “There’s no need for me to hold back from more rigorous experiments when I can replace the subject if he stops being useful to me.”

 

A chill ran down his spine. He pushed the feeling down into the pit of his chest and frowned, bringing himself out of the temporary stupor of fear. 

 

“Yeah well there  _ is _ only one of me, and I’m more than your chew toy lady,” he said, getting louder as he kicked and struggled, biting down on the tentacle that was wrapped around his shoulders. It felt like biting soft rubber. He only realised the irony of what he’d said  _ after _ he’d committed to biting it.

 

She made her choice and slammed him down, knocking the wind out of him. He breathed hard, sucking in precious oxygen until more rubber clamped over his mouth. Its soft claws pressed against his nostrils, not entirely blocking off air but making it difficult enough that his lungs ached. He was being dragged along the floor at the same time as Olivia moved towards the door and out into the hallway. 

 

“Hm. Have you heard of Pavlov’s dogs, Peter?” 

 

He tried to bite at the tentacle clamped over his mouth, for all the good it would do. In retaliation, something from the middle of it forced itself into his mouth to hold his jaw open. He could feel saliva running down his chin as he tried to yell for someone’s attention.

 

To his surprise, he could see somebody with cropped hair and a lab coat down the hall, clutching notebooks and a laptop to their chest. They were looking his way, but evidently didn’t consider anything to be wrong. Olivia paid them no mind either. She was the opposite of subtle, still raised up on two tentacles, her hands pyramiding together. As she dragged a still struggling captive along behind her. 

 

He realised that she was dragging him on  _ purpose _ . She could have carried him aloft easily, but she had made the active choice to  _ not _ do that. And she was smiling.

 

She dragged him into another, darker room.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
